


Unfamiliar Territory

by InHerOwnWorld



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, POV Alternating, Plagg is a Little Shit, Snippets, Time Skips, adrien is basically a cat and gabriel doesn't know what to do about it, awkward/hilarious father-son bonding, marinette doesn't know what to make of adrien's feline proclivities, neko!Adrien
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-18
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-12-04 01:14:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11544372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InHerOwnWorld/pseuds/InHerOwnWorld
Summary: Gabriel can handle single parenthood. He can handle delusional spiels about magical cats and evil butterflies from a son who just lost his mother.The cat ears growing on his son’s head, however, are a little much.





	Unfamiliar Territory

**Author's Note:**

> While more details will be explained as this fic progresses, here’s a little bit about this AU that deviates from canon:
> 
> -Adrien loses his mother at an earlier age—seven years old.  
> -Gabriel will probably seem a little cold-hearted at first. Single parenthood is difficult, but both him and Adrien are about to embark on a father/son adventure that will develop their relationship in the most eccentric of ways.  
> -Adrien receives the miraculous in a very different manner than the show. There are also some…side effects.  
> -What to overall expect: A lot of Gabriel and Adrien bonding. A very catlike Adrien who must grow up pretending to be normal. A very normal Gabriel who must learn how to handle a catlike Adrien. Marinette and Adrien meeting way before lycee, thus changing the dynamic of their friendship. Gabriel and Plagg barely tolerating one another. Fluff, humor, story told in snippets, a lot of time jumps, a focus on character/relationship development, and hella hurt/comfort.

When Nathalie walks into the room, Gabriel doesn’t even bother turning his head.

“Sir,” she drawls, “Adrien—”

“Can tell me about his dreams later, at dinner,” he asserts, tone dismissive and neutral. In the months following his wife’s mysterious disappearance, Adrien’s stories have become a daily, reoccurring, _exceedingly irksome_ ritual. The psychologist he hired assured him it was part of a coping mechanism. _Children_ , he said, _imagine the most outlandish fantasies when in grief. They cannot handle the real world, so they create their own. It allows them to express their feelings through symbolic language._

For Adrien, his _symbolic language_ includes magical cats, evil butterflies, and a superhero dressed up as an insect. How that ties into coming to terms with his mother’s presumed death, Gabriel doesn’t know, and frankly, doesn’t care. Regardless of his wife’s sudden absence, there are still fashion empires to run and clothes to design. Competitors don’t care about his devastating situation or his inner turmoil. Life moves on, with or without Mlle. Holly Agreste.

Gabriel would be lying to himself if he claimed that her disappearance had no effect on him. He knows he misses her. Misses loving her, misses spending time with her, misses feeling genuine happiness and misses having a partner to guide him through fatherhood and his “emotional constipation issues”, as Holly had called it. His relationship with Adrien, his son and heir, had been strained even with Holly present as the mediator between them. Now, moments between them are awkward at best, tense at worst. 

Nathalie sighs before taking her leave. “As you wish, sir.”

His eyes train on the screen on front of him, analyzing portfolios and original pieces. Out of 14,768 applicants, he has narrowed the numbers down to 243. Only 100 spots are open for interns, meaning he still needs to weed out another 143. This used to be Holly’s job, but with her recent disappearance—

The door bangs open, little blonde-haired Adrien barging in with a manic gleam in his eyes.

“Father!”

Tears flood his eyes and pool all over his face, dripping onto the floor. Even considering his past mental breakdowns, Gabriel admits this one appears worse than the others. Nathalie walks in behind Adrien, apologetic eyes boring into his own.

Using all his effort, Gabriel bites back his irritation and puts his work on hold. As much as he hates dealing with emotional outbursts, he hates seeing his son distraught even more.

Gabriel tries to provide a reassuring smile. That’s what the child psychologist said: smile more. Appear comforting. Be expressive.

After his third failed attempt at a smile, Gabriel settles for a neutral expression. At least he’s not frowning, right? The psychologist also said if he can’t force optimism, he at least needs to refrain from any negativity. Children feed off what they sense from their parents, and the more negative feelings he shows Adrien, the worse Adrien’s… _condition_ …will become.

Gabriel doesn’t know if can tolerate this condition becoming worse.

“Son,” he tries at a calm, soothing voice, “what’s wrong?”

Adrien approaches him before grabbing onto his leg, taking deep, steady breaths. Gabriel utilizes all his inner willpower not to shake him off.  

“Adrien?”

“It was you this time,” he sobs, clutching tightly onto the pant material. “It was you it was you it was you—”

Blonde eyebrows stretch upward in surprise. _It was you_. What does that mean? Did Adrien dream about _his_ disappearance, for once? A tug pulls somewhere deep inside his chest. Gabriel tries to ignore it, but the words bounce around in his head.

_It was you It was you it was you it was you—_

“You were the evil butterfly,” Adrien continues, the statement halting Gabriel’s mental train. “Y-you turned people into monsters, and the cat and ladybug had to stop you, and-and-“

Gabriel pulls away, refusing to look into his son’s eyes. “Adrien, we’ve discussed this—“

“No, you don’t understand!” his son shouts in frustration. “It’s real, father, it’s _real_ and you’re going to be turn evil if we don’t stop it, we need to stop it, the cat is coming, the cat is—“

“Adrien!” Gabriel snaps, covering his son’s mouth with a hand. “That’s enough!”

He hates how he’s responsible for the touchy-feely aspects of parenthood, now. He hates that he has to do this alone. He hates that Adrien is mentally unstable and that he’s practically useless in resolving the issue. He hates that the media is soaking up his misery and weaving it into their own source of entertainment. He hates that he should be reviewing applications but instead needs to worry about evil villains and superheroes and _father I had a nightmare and I can’t sleep can I stay with you_?

Most of all, he hates the guilt weighing down on his conscience.

Slowly, Gabriel removes his hand from Adrien’s mouth. There are still tears in the boy’s eyes and his body shakes, but Adrien has stopped screaming and spewing nonsense.

Eyes stern, Gabriel murmurs, “Son, evil butterflies do not exist. _Magic_ does not exist. You are a regular eight year old boy who is trying to cope with your mother’s absence.”

Adrien’s lip wobbles, but he says nothing.

“I need you to stay strong,” Gabriel continues, putting a hand on his son’s shoulder and squeezing it in what he hopes comes off as comfort. He’s quite proud at how genuine his sentiment appears.

Green eyes blink at him for a moment, before the boy’s body droops with exhaustion. “Whatever you say, Father.”

Despite that Gabriel has succeeded in calming Adrien down and sending him away without too much of a scene, the rock of guilt remains embedded in his chest.

* * *

_Scitch scitch scitch._ “Father?”

This better be a dream. This better be a dream. _This better be a dream_.

“Father. Please.”

The words echo in the hallway.

 There is no way Adrien is awake at 3 AM, scratching at Gabriel’s bedroom door like a cat, calling his name. Nathalie promised him he would have a full night’s rest. She assured him there would be no disturbances. It’s a dream—he simply needs to ignore the hallucination and continue on in his slumber.

 “Father. It…It’s important. Really important.”

The tiny voice on the other side of the door chokes up.

“Father. I’m scared.”

High-pitched whimpers persuade Gabriel to give up on sleep. He swears this boy will be the death of him and his sanity. Grumbling, he tosses aside the covers and marches over to the door, prepared to give his son the most serious, intense reprimand in his life.

“Adrien,” he seethes, flinging the door open. “I swear to all that is good in the world—“

He stops. Blinks.

Perched on top of Adrien’s head are a set of cat ears.

Multiple feelings course through him. Annoyance, though that’s always a given. Frustration. Exhaustion. Anger. After a week of pulling numerous all-nighters to ensure no flaws in the upcoming fashion show, Adrien picks _tonight_ to wake him up at the crack of dawn to show him _fake cat ears_?

Fire burns in his hand, itching him to slap his son, reprimand him, _something_. Not that he can bring himself to do it, but the temptation entices him anyway.

Gabriel inhales deep. Blinks some sleepiness out of his eyes. Then, deadpans to Adrien, “Son, get those cat ears off your head and retire to your room.”

“But—“

“ _Now._ ”

Adrien’s lip wobbles, eyes shining with oncoming tears. “I can’t.”

 _They’re fake,_ Gabriel assures himself. _That has to be fake. I need to take them—Adrien’s delusions have lasted long enough…_

Before Adrien realizes it, Gabriel holds the furry black ears in a tight hold and _tugs_.

Except—

Except the ears aren’t coming off and Adrien is yowling in pain and being dragged with the ears and _there must be a very strong adhesive under here how did my son obtain this?_

Panic flares in his chest for a moment. _The ears won’t come off_. Adrien sobs at this point, hiccupping on each breath. Gabriel lets go, hands shaking as his wide eyes stare at the appendages.

He knows fake cat ears. As a fashion designer, he has seen various headbands and accessories. He has seen how designers try to blend them in with the model’s hair, though it’s always impossible for it to be completely unseen. These…upon close inspection, they are embedded in Adrien’s head. He can see the skin from his son’s head mesh with the skin of the appendages. He sees the gradual transformation from skin to somewhat hairy to _furry—_

As his mind marvels over his discovery, Adrien’s sobs subside for the moment, trailing off into soft whimpers. Reflecting on his mood, the cat ears droop downward.

He can’t help himself. In an absent-minded daze, Gabriel’s hands trace the shape of the ears with a gentle touch. Soft, warm, furry—just like a regular cat’s ears. They twitch and move and _react_ at his physical investigation. Only after a few moments of petting them do they perk up and Adrien reveals another shocking development.

“You’re purring,” Gabriel murmurs, entranced by the very real, very alive ears on his son’s head and the vibrating of Adrien’s body. For the second time that night, he thinks he’s dreaming. He must be, there is no possible explanation for this, no possible reasoning—

Adrien tentatively peeks up to Gabriel, no longer whining. “I...I saw them when I went to the bathroom.”

“How?” Gabriel whispers, awe tinting his tone.

Adrien shrugs in helplessness. “The magical cat did it, I think.”

 _Magic_. There’s that word again. For once, Gabriel indulges in the fantasy.

“All right,” he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “what magical cat?”

His son responds without hesitance. “Plagg. He is, um, a friend, I think. He has magic powers. He talks to me sometimes.”

Right. The magical cat. The superhero. Who destroys evil butterflies. _Magic_. Gabriel tries to wrap his head around it, one bit at a time. Logic and professionalism can’t help him here. He needs to go against his usual approach to resolve issues and try something new.

“What else?”

He needs to _talk it out_. Even though he still assumes this is all a dream and he will wake up in a couple hours with a normal son and a clear head.

“Uh…” Adrien scrunches his nose in thought. The action is so catlike, Gabriel stiffens in shock again. He could visualize the whiskers moving on his son’s face, if there were any.

“He…he told me that one day I’m going to be a superhero! With his powers!” For the first time since his mother’s disappearance, Adrien grins at his father, excitement clear on his face. “I’m going to grow up and be Chat Noir!”

The ears are high up on his head now, twitching with what Gabriel assumes to be energy. The fashion designer has no clue what to make of any of this. He still can’t decide if this is real, or some crazy, imaginative delusion.

Either way….”Son, I believe it’s time for bed.”

Adrien protests immediately, “But Father—“

“Retrieve a blanket from your closet and meet me back in my quarters. You can sleep with me tonight.”

Although he _really_ would rather sleep alone and receive a good night’s rest, the beaming smile on his son’s face convinces Gabriel this is a good decision.

“Don’t get used to it,” he mutters under his breath, though Adrien is already bounding down the hallway.

* * *

As it turns out, the cat ears…are not a dream.

It takes a few hours to explain the conundrum to Nathalie. It takes a few days until Gabriel stops waking up with the assumption that the previous day wasn’t real. It takes even longer for him to not flinch whenever Adrien rubs his head and ears against Gabriel’s arm, or purr whenever he’s in a good mood.

And, _god,_ is it _weird_.

He retains an outward calm façade, of course. As irrational and mind-numbing this entire development is, Gabriel Agreste takes pride in being the face of control. While dreams of magic and cat ears oppose essentially 100% of Gabriel’s ideals and values, these new aspects of his daily routine evidently aren’t disappearing anytime soon.

(he only screams and stomps and just about rips his hair out when he is alone in his office at night contemplating life and wondering _how the hell_ he ended up with a practically-dead wife and a son with visions of _magical cats_ )

Gabriel prepares himself, because he knows how society will react. They will make assumptions. They will blow the matter out of proportion. And, what scares Gabriel the most, they will worry and fret and take Adrien in for testing and experimentation.

He refuses to allow that to happen.

So he starts searching out private, low-key doctors who know how to keep quiet, if paid the right amount of money. He gives Nathalie strict orders to not reveal a single word of this recent development. Half the house staff is given a week of paid vacation, just until Gabriel figures out who, exactly, is trustworthy from his staff to keep information confidential.

Gabriel will need to be both ostentatious and subtle in how he handles the media and press. If he acts too discreet, reporters will pick up on the lack of activity and ask questions. If he acts too obvious, he will draw too much attention and someone will inevitably start wondering why Adrien hasn’t made a public appearance in a while.

Fortunately, given Holly’s disappearance, Gabriel has some leeway in sorting out this whole ordeal. His and his son’s elusiveness can be attributed towards time to mourn over Holly and to take personal time off.

But that will only last for so long.

“Father, can you pass the milk please?”

Without looking away from the laptop’s display of private, visiting pediatricians, Gabriel hands over a milk carton across the kitchen island. That, too, is a recent development—his son’s sporadic affinity for dairy products.

“Plagg visited again last night.”

The left-field statements halts Gabriel’s scattered thoughts. He tenses, bringing his eyes to lock into Adrien’s.

This _Plagg_ character had been appearing in Adrien’s dreams even _before_ the ears, talking to his son about the future and about magical abilities. According to Adrien, anyway. If he’s being honest, Gabriel still doesn’t know how much of these stories he truly believes; but considering the ears and the purring and the milk, he’s willing to give Adrien the benefit of the doubt.

“And?”

Adrien fumbles at the intense gaze. “Uh, well, he…he said that he’ll be here. Soon.”

Gabriel raises an eyebrow.

“I-I mean,” Adrien stutters, “Here-here, not just…you know…here-in-my-dreams here.

“And,” his son continues, the furry appendages drooping behind his head, “he…he really wants camembert cheese. And said that if he doesn’t get any, he’s not going to have enough energy to help me.”

…

“Father?”

“Hm,” Gabriel muses. “Camembert cheese, you said?”

Adrien reveals a tentative smile. “Uh, yeah.”

“Hm. We’ll see.”

The added perk to the cat ears lessens the weight of tension in the room. Adrien gives his father a small smile—an action that has becoming more frequent as of late—and continues eating his protein-infused oatmeal. Amongst the background noise, Gabriel picks up on subtle rumbling.

Maybe…just maybe…he can survive single parenthood unscatched.

* * *

 

As it turns out, Adrian hadn’t been lying about Plagg’s eventual appearance.

But, he certainly didn’t mention anything about the magical cat _being able to defy gravity and phase through solid objects_.

Giggles bombard out of Adrien as he runs around the mansion, trying to catch the floating, miniature black cat with a head way too large for its body.

Nor did Adrien mention that the magical cat is extremely lazy and sarcastic and a giant trolling imbecile that _doesn’t shut up_ , who more often than not sets a bad example for Adrien’s behavior.

The sound of glass breaking reaches Gabriel’s ears.

He sighs, rubbing a hand down his face. He can attempt to stop the two, but over the course of the past few days, he’s learned that trying to stop the embodiment of Chaos and Destruction is about as doable as trying to convince Adrien to stop running around the house on all fours. 

 _Boom_. A shudder runs through the mansion.

At this rate, the entire house will be demolished by the weekend.

“Nathalie,” he states.

His assistant peers over from her work desk adjacent to his own. Though her expression remains as professional as ever, he detects a worry line between her eyebrows. “Yes, sir?”

“Tell the demon that if he ever wants to even _touch_ camembert cheese again, I better walk out of this office with a completely intact house and not _a single trace_ of broken glass.”

It is that day that Gabriel finally discovers the dumb cat’s weakness.

* * *

As impossible as it had originally appeared, Gabriel adjusts to the odd occurrences within the Agreste mansion. The cat ears don’t bother him as much as they had at first. Part of his routine now includes petting Adrien’s mop of hair and rubbing him right behind the ears, in a way that brings a purr out of his son’s chest and calms him down before bedtime.

The cuddling…while still uncomfortable…seems to _thrill_ Adrien. Despite Gabriel’s reluctance to share a bed with Adrien, especially at this age, seeing the bright smile on his son’s face almost makes the discomfort and awkwardness worth it.

 _Almost_ , because no matter how endearing it is, watching his son curl up into a circle at the foot of the bed so that his back brushes up against Gabriel’s legs still is all kinds of _weird_.

As for adjusting to Plagg…well…

“Gabe, I’m tellin’ ya, you’ll make _billions_ if you start designing clothes out of cheese.”

The man scrunches his nose in disgust at the new nickname the kwami has dealt him. “I _already_ make billions, if you remember correctly.”

“But you can make even _more_ ,” Plagg insists, waving his paws around in an elaborate gesture. “And then you can use that money to buy The Play Room!”

Great. Another _enlightening_ conversation. With a magical flying, _talking_ cat. During business hours.

“Demon, we have discussed this—”

“I told you, I’m a _god_ not a _demon_ —”

“Given your tendencies towards wrecking this house and negatively influencing Adrien, I believe the term ‘demon’ suits you just fine.”

Plagg has the decency to look embarrassed. “For the record, I can’t control bad luck.”

“No,” Gabriel conceded, “but you _can_ control your _bad decisions_.”

The cat’s jaw drops. “I’ll have you know I’m _thousands_ of years older than you!”

“Age does not always equate to wisdom.”

“No, but it _does_ equate to experience. Remind me again who’s your only hope once Adrien fully grows into his powers?”

Gabriel’s hand freezes in place over the contract he had been outlining, glaring at the smug-looking demon lying on the surface of his desk.

The demon continues, “To think, you haven’t had to deal with the _claws_ yet.”

Gabriel commends himself for not choking on his own saliva at what Plagg insinuates. Claws. _Claws_? As though the feline proclivities weren’t enough?

Plagg realizes what he blurts a moment too late. He jerks upward, staring wide-eyed at the now scrutinizing fashion designer. “I wasn’t supposed to tell you that.”

“It appears,” Gabriel grits out, “there are _many_ things you would likely be better off not disclosing.”

If heart failure doesn’t kill Gabriel Agreste, he doesn’t know what will.

Somehow, _miraculously_ , Plagg turns the sarcastic atmosphere into a serious one. “Since we're on the topic, you and I need to have a conversation soon.”

Gabriel raises an eyebrow. “Can it wait until _after_ I finish this paperwork? _During leisure hours?_ ”

Plagg rolls his eyes. “It’s not my fault Adrien naps more than I do.”

“And this pertains to me because…?”

“I’m booooored,” the kwami whines, dramatically sighing and rising to float in the air. “Believe me, you are the _literal last human on earth_ I would _ever_ want to hold a conversation with.”

The designer holds back a groan and attempts to ignore the Plagg’s overdramatic ramblings and ongoing tangent. God only knows what has granted Gabriel the tolerance to actually put up with Plagg in the first place. Or allow him to live in the house. Or provide him _stinky_ _cheese_ , per his (annoyingly persistent) request. Or absorb all the information about _kwamis_ and _powers_ and _the future_ with a straight face.

Speaking of…

“You can share your grievances with me _after_ I finish working and _after_ you explain why you chose _my son_  to transform into a reckless, gallivanting vigilante _."_

 

"To be fair, he _isn't_ a reckless, gallivanting vigilante."

A pause.

"Yet." 

While his heart rate skyrockets and he requests Nathalie to retrieve a third cup of coffee for him, Gabriel wonders (not for the first time) what possible, horrible act he could have committed to have been dealt these eccentric circumstances.

**Author's Note:**

> I need to give a shoutout to the contributing writers of the MLB fandom because, honestly, you authors are so talented and awesome that I got swept into this fandom BEFORE I EVEN WATCHED THE SHOW. Seeing fanart everywhere and reading fanfictions out of curiosity sucked me into watching it on Netflix, and now I'm obsessed.
> 
> This idea hit me right away and I had to start fleshing this AU out. I'm not really sure where I'm going with this plot-wise, and this is the first time I've ever written anything for the MLB fandom but...fingers crossed!
> 
> Heads-up: I'm in a weird position where I'm used to reading a lot of fanfics that adopt the french aspects of the show...(i.e. "Chat Noir" instead of "Cat Noir"), but I'm also used to watching the English dubbed version. Parts of both versions may fuse together because A) I have horrible memory and mix things up and B) I am too lazy to conduct research/rewatch the episodes in french but with english subtitles. 
> 
> Feel free to leave constructive criticism!


End file.
